Vasily held the reins of his black steed, pressing the red-haired woman against his chest. She was caught in his embrace, though not by her own will. She remained motionless, offering no resistance. Even if she managed to break free or attempt to escape, there was nowhere for her to go.

  Igor rode beside them, the woman's child sitting in his lap. The child seemed unaware of what was happening, looking for his mother but more fascinated by the horse. Igor had taught him the words the horse knew, and the boy repeated them incessantly, causing the horse to occasionally halt, which forced Igor to spur it onward again.

  "Igor?" Vasily raised his hand and called without turning around. Igor nudged the horse a bit harder, bringing it alongside Vasily's. Seeing him, Vasily continued, "Stay close. I can’t stand her turning around anymore. Ride beside me so at least her son can be near her."

  No one replied. Igor nodded, and the woman didn't even thank him, nor did she smile. She simply reached out her hand between the horses to gently stroke the blond boy. The boy was so engrossed that he hardly noticed.

  The sun was sinking lower, and a light breeze brought with it the scent of pine needles from the nearby forest, along with the smell of smoke from the villages nearby. It was summer, and the villagers had taken to lighting fires outside to cook or burn the weeds from their gardens. Vasily wanted to avoid places with people; he had another goal in mind, one that no one else knew.

  Igor hadn't traveled much with the vanders and was still getting to know his new companions, but he was already attuned to their every desire. However, they sometimes surprised him. At first, he expected them to kill the woman and the child. Although he hadn’t seen them do it, he knew they were capable. The woman expected the same. When they didn’t kill her, she then anticipated they would take advantage of her. This, too, they hadn’t done, though there was still time. It hadn’t been long since then.

  Igor held the child close, who also listened to them. He couldn’t tell if the boy was simply frightened or if he truly understood what was happening. He doubted the latter. Stepan and Ivanyek had stayed back, scanning for danger. Sometimes Igor felt like a child among them—unable to fight, unable to catch food, not knowing the way, and barely able to stay on the horse. He saw little difference between himself and the child in front of him.

  The red-haired woman suddenly leaned forward. Igor tried not to watch them constantly, but some things were impossible to ignore. Vasily gently pulled her back to him. She didn’t resist this time but soon did the same thing again.

  "Can I at least know your names since we’re so close?" the woman asked. Igor saw Vasily’s smile.

  "You don’t need to know them. We won’t be together for long."

  He was cold, treating everyone this way. She was no exception.

  "When will you kill me? Before or after you take advantage of me?"

  "Who said we’d take advantage of you?"

  "Oh, please," Igor sensed the mockery in her voice. "You’re that type, it’s in your nature. I knew it the moment I saw you."

  "And how could you tell, madam?" Vasily didn’t wipe the smile off his face, even though she couldn’t see it.

  "Three vagabonds…"

  "Four."

  "Four? The boy with you isn’t one of your kind," the woman glanced at Igor, who looked away, ashamed. "It’s obvious from a mile away. Just look at him."

  "He’ll learn. He might even be the first to try you."

  "Don’t talk like that in front of my child." The red-haired woman tried to turn to show Vasily how angry she was, but she couldn’t. So she looked at Igor again, who rode beside them with her child. "And that boy has probably never even been with a woman."

  Vasily laughed out loud, making Igor even more uncomfortable. He didn’t know how to respond to defend himself. They weren’t entirely wrong. When he was with Visnya’s daughter, it almost happened. They didn’t manage to because Visnya came in and cut his visit short, but it could still count.

  "Where were the two fat men taking you?" Vasily changed the subject, and Igor saw him tighten his grip on the right rein. The horse, confused, veered off the path, and Vasily had to pull it back with the left. The red-haired woman swayed and fell into his arms, much to Vasily’s amusement.

  "You don’t need to confuse the horse to touch me. Maybe I was wrong about you. You’re just cowards. If you were a real man…"

  Vasily let go of the reins and grabbed her chin, pulling her towards him with a full hand. Igor turned away, trying to distract the child.

  "If I were a real man, what? Would I rape you right here? Then hand you over to my friends? Is that what you meant?"

  These might have been questions. Then Vasily fell silent, and Igor looked back. Vasily was still speaking:

  "Yes, madam. That’s what we’ll do. But first, we’ll play with you. And we’re not the monsters you think we are. We wouldn’t want your blond little boy to watch, right?"

  Vasily released his grip on her chin. She lowered her head and brushed away the hair that had fallen into her eyes.

  "And now, madam, may I have your name and where exactly you were headed?"

  Vasily was still speaking politely, though it sounded more mocking than anything.

  "Clarice. And my son’s name is Fabian," she replied quickly. Igor hadn’t expected it.

  "Are you lying to us?"

  "It doesn’t matter if I’m lying. My name doesn’t matter."

  "Fine, Clarice. We’re starting to understand each other. What were you going to do in Chernoval? Why were you heading there?"

  "My mother’s sister lives there. I was going to leave Fabian with her."

  "Was she expecting you?"

  "No. She didn’t know."

  "That’s good. And where were you coming from?"

  Clarice didn’t answer again.

  "Alright, if you don’t want to say, don’t. This is enough for today." He paused for a moment, then his voice rang out again, "My name is Vasily. Those in the back are Ivanyek and Stepan. And the young one with us is Igor."

  "Why did you tell me your names?" the woman was surprised.

  "I’m not afraid of anyone. Even if an entire army is behind you, madam Clarice. We can fight, and we can die."

  The last part sounded so proud and strong that Igor got goosebumps. Fabian had leaned forward, burying his head in the horse’s mane. He wasn’t asleep, but he found it fascinating. He straightened up, turned his eyes to him, and pointed to something. Igor looked in the direction he was pointing. Two rabbits were chasing each other among the trees nearby, or rather, they were running away from them, sometimes stopping to perk up their ears and look around for danger. When they sensed it in their direction, they began running again.

  "Could you stop calling me madam?" Clarice interrupted the moment, drawing attention. "It makes me sick to hear it from someone as worthless as you."

  "You’re showing your claws, I like that. I’ll be straightforward with you, Clarice. By the way, that’s a very lovely name. With such beautiful hair and skin, you’re certainly not just a common peasant. But I’ll figure that out later, and you’ll tell me yourself. Now, I’ll tell you your future."

  "It doesn’t depend on a vander like you."

  Vasily was startled and stopped his horse. The others behind him also halted.

  "Is there a problem, Vasily?" Ivanyek called out from behind them.

  "Stay there," Vasily glanced back at Igor. Igor understood.

  "Yes!" Clarice continued. "I know what you are. It’s obvious from a mile away. And people like you are only in Chernoval. I was born in Chernoval and have entered your part many times. I can’t be mistaken. And it seems I haven’t, judging by what I see."

  Igor heard her laugh. It was a pleasant, feminine laugh. Loud enough for him to hear but not so loud that it echoed through the forest they were entering.

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  "You’re crazier than I expected," Vasily nudged the reins gently, and the horses moved on. Whatever he had planned, he quickly abandoned it. Igor knew him a little and knew he was close to doing something foolish. He was glad he didn’t. "But at least I learned something else about you. You were born in Chernoval. Are you sure we haven’t met when we were younger? If you were as beautiful as you are now, I definitely wouldn’t have missed you."

  Clarice, if that was her real name, leaned forward again, and Vasily pulled her back to him. Igor tried to keep the child from looking at them, but the boy kept searching for his mother with his eyes. At least he was young enough not to understand what they were saying, and the ride on the horse fascinated him and distracted his attention. It was possible he had never ridden before.

  "I would never even consider touching peasants like you," Clarice raised her voice. "Oh no, you're not even a peasant. You're a filthy vander."

  She said it again. Igor held the child once more, bracing for Vasily to react. He could see Vasily's expression from his horse—barely restrained. He was tempted to strike her. Igor was certain Vasily had hit women before. If he did it now, Igor was ready to shield the blond child. No child should witness such things.

  But nothing happened. Vasily calmed down, and suddenly everyone fell silent. Behind them, only Ivanyek's cheerful laughter could be heard. Somehow, he was holding a conversation with the mute Stepan. Though Stepan couldn't speak, he could make sounds, and laughter was one of them. Most of the time, it was Ivanyek talking, likely sharing something amusing, his loud voice not reaching them, before laughing at his own jokes.

  Fabian's childish voice also began to emerge more frequently. The child pointed out various things along the way, delighting especially in the animals and larger birds. Igor tried to respond. He had never interacted with children before, having no brothers or sisters, and now he found it fascinating. Clarice often turned to look at them, smiling at her son. The boy waved at her from the other horse, and this seemed to keep him calm. It was fortunate he didn’t understand the situation they were in. Igor himself hoped things wouldn’t turn too bad for them.

  They covered some distance, waiting for the sun to almost set. Vasily abruptly changed course, leading them into the forest. No one objected, and they all followed him.

  As night fell, sounds that weren’t present in the daylight began to emerge, frightening the little boy. His eyes widened, and the horse no longer held his interest. He looked around frantically, as if searching for something. The trees suddenly seemed like walls around them, the only sounds coming from the crunching leaves beneath the horses' hooves. Eventually, he fell asleep, slumped against Igor. At every loud noise, he would wake up, glance around, then fall back asleep.

  Once they were deep enough into the forest, Vasily halted and raised his hand. This was the signal for Ivanyek and Stepan. The two rode ahead of them, then turned their horses back towards Vasily. A beam of moonlight, strong that evening, pierced through the trees and illuminated his face.

  "We’ll camp here for the night. We have one tent. Set it up. The lady and the child will sleep in it. We’ll find somewhere else to rest."

  Igor was surprised but also relieved. Clarice said nothing. The men dismounted first, and then Vasily helped the woman down. It seemed they didn’t have bad intentions after all. Clarice also appeared confused.

  "Stepan, get the fire going. And you," Vasily looked at him, "wake the child. Keep him close to you. I don’t want the lady getting any ideas about doing something foolish. No one would enjoy a chase through this dark forest."

  At its peak, the fire Stepan quickly built reached nearly the height of little Fabian. The blond boy ran around, jumping and shouting, and at the end of each lap around the burning embers, he would throw himself into the arms of either his mother or Igor, who had evidently become his friend. The child seemed to have forgotten his sleepiness, now happier and perhaps unaware of where he was and what awaited them. Igor himself hoped none of what he imagined would come to pass.

  Clarice stood close to Vasily. She wasn’t tied up and was free to move. It seemed they trusted her, and no one would run off into unfamiliar territory. Vasily checked her several times for weapons. She had none.

  "Good thing he doesn’t understand anything," Vasily heard Clarice’s voice as she looked at her son. She sounded calm. "Give me that." Clarice reached out and took the bottle of rum from his hands, drinking greedily.

  Vasily and Ivanyek whistled in approval at the sight.

  "You drink more than us. I mistook you for a lady."

  "Shut up, you vander." Clarice took another swig. "When are you going to rape me? Just make sure it’s not in front of my child."

  "You still think we’re monsters. And if we don’t rape you?"

  "Then you must be cowards," she lowered the bottle and looked at them one by one. "Or maybe you’ve lost your manhood?"

  Vasily reached out and took the bottle from her hands.

  "I think the alcohol is getting to you quickly."

  "Doesn’t matter, I’ll be dead soon."

  "You keep looking for death where it’s not."

  "I’d rather be ready when the time comes. I don’t like surprises."

  "Well, maybe you’ll have to be surprised."

  "At least leave him alive. Hide my body somewhere after you kill me. Then leave him in some village. Is that fair?"

  "If we do something to you and leave him alive, he’ll grow up and seek revenge for you one day. Isn’t that what injured sons or husbands of murdered women do?"

  "That only happens in songs and old books with stories and legends. Real life doesn’t work that way. If you harm me and leave him alive, he won’t even remember me in a few years. He’s too young."

  "We could make him a vander. Just look at Igor," Vasily pointed to him and grinned. "He became a vander in a single night."

  "Was it by choice?"

  "Well...not exactly," Vasily laughed. Ivanyek and Stepan joined in.

  "So tell us, Igor, are you happy to be with us?"

  "Yes." He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  "He doesn’t have the courage to deny it. If he has any courage at all. He couldn’t even kill those scrawny horses. He stood there with a knife in hand, unsure where to strike. He almost kissed them instead. How do you expect someone like that to watch your back?"

  "If he were brave, I would have killed him, not taken him with me. Before us, he had no money and lived on the streets."

  "And with you, he still has no money and lives in the woods."

  Vasily took another drink.

  "But he has a back. It’s important to have someone watching your back in this life. And you saw it yourself with those two fat men."

  "They weren’t that bad. And they were good fighters. You were just better."

  "There’s always someone better. But I agree. The fat ones did better than I expected. But they had no chance against me."

  Vasily took another drink and handed the bottle to Clarice. She took it and made a similar gulp to his. Her eyes were growing redder, even redder than her hair. Igor could see that she was struggling to stay seated. But she kept drinking. Fabian had worn himself out and was sitting next to him.

  Whenever a fire was lit around them, it was clear that there would be drinking, and the three of them never went to bed without finishing a bottle of rum. They carried weapons and rum with them, nothing else. That was what Igor had learned about them in the short time he had been with them. Drinking and fighting seemed to be their favorite pastimes.

  The bottle made its rounds through Ivanyek, Stepan, and finally to Igor, who pushed it away, and it returned to Vasily and Clarice. The leader of the band raised the bottle to his lips, but Clarice reached out, took it from his hands, and greedily took several large gulps.

  Vasily snorted, more mocking than anything. Clarice no longer paid him any attention.

  "What’s wrong, bandit? Don’t think a lady with soft skin and pretty hair, as you called me, can drink?"

  "I’ve seen plenty of ladies. Some more proper than you, some less so. And every single one of them hid their dirty secrets. Most of them drank a lot. But I really didn’t expect it from you. Not for a moment did you seem like a woman who could drink as much as me."

  "I can drink more than you. After all, I grew up in Chernoval. And there, women aren’t known for their good behavior. At least not as much as in other kingdoms."

  "So, you’re not from a noble family?"

  Clarice took the bottle again and drank deeply. She didn’t answer.

  "Boss, if she keeps going like this, there won’t be any left for us."

  Vasily laughed, took the bottle from her hand, and passed it to Stepan and Ivanyek. Clarice got up from her place, albeit with difficulty, and went over to them. She bent down and took the bottle back from their hands. Vasily was amused, while Ivanyek said something less than kind. The bottle was back in the woman’s hands, who now looked as if she didn’t know where she was. The alcohol was quickly taking its toll on her. They all forgot that little Fabian was there, but the boy was sleeping so soundly that even their shouting didn’t wake him.

  "Maybe it’s time for bed, huh?" Vasily grabbed Clarice by the arm. She pulled away and poured more rum down her throat.

  "She’s drinking it like water now, Vasily," Ivanyek chimed in. "I think I’ll hide the other bottle. We’re only human too."

  "You think I can’t drink as much as you? What do you think now?" She took another drink. The bottle was nearly empty. "I can fight too. Want to see?"

  Before she even finished speaking, a knife appeared in her hand. Vasily, though he had also been drinking, quickly stood up. Clarice was laughing, holding the knife in her hands. She looked crazed.

  "Where did you get that?"

  "You’re not very good with your hands," she smiled at Vasily. "You felt me up and didn’t find it."

  Igor grabbed Fabian and held him close. The boy was crying. Igor tried to cover his eyes so he wouldn’t see.

  "Do you want to hand that over before someone gets hurt?"

  As she sat, Clarice leaned toward him, knife in hand. Vasily instinctively stepped back, and she started laughing, tossing the knife back into his lap.

  "Take it. I don’t care about any of you." And she sat down again.

  Vasily quickly put the knife back in his saddlebags, approached Clarice, grabbed her under the arm, and lifted her. She didn’t resist.

  "Is it time for bed now?" Clarice laughed. "Is it time for you to do what you brought me for?"

  Vasily tightened his grip on Clarice and dragged her towards the tent. After a moment, there was laughter, shouting, and then silence. Only the sounds of the bottle being passed back and forth between Stepan and Ivanyek could be heard. Occasionally, the fire crackled, adding to the calm. A calm that Igor didn’t feel at that moment. He imagined what was happening in the tent. He didn’t want to, but he imagined it. He didn’t like it. Not with little Fabian here. He didn’t know if Vasily would come back and where little Fabian would sleep.

  When Vasily finally reappeared, Stepan and Ivanyek were finishing off the rum and staring at the dying fire. Vasily sat down between Igor and Ivanyek. Fabian whimpered quietly, crying for his mother. Igor still didn’t let go of him.

  Everyone was silent, watching Vasily, waiting for him to speak.

  "I might be a lot of things, Ivanyek," Vasily looked at his friend, then at Igor, "but I wouldn’t take advantage of a drunk woman in front of her child."

  "Unless it’s the innkeeper’s wife."

  For a moment, no one reacted to Ivanyek’s reply. Then they all laughed. Fabian cried louder, startled by their laughter. When he asked for his mother and Vasily gave permission, they let the child go.

  They watched him from behind as he ran towards the tent.

  Igor took the rum and finally took a drink himself.